


Bond

by AutisticWriter



Series: Autistic Headcanons [62]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: Ableism, Ableist Language, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Autism, Autism Spectrum, Autistic Beetee Latier, Autistic Wiress, Canonical Character Death, Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Hugs, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Marriage, Neurodiversity, Nightmares, One Shot, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Shutdowns, Slurs, Stimming, Trauma, meltdowns, r-slur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-21 22:39:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11367102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutisticWriter/pseuds/AutisticWriter
Summary: Beetee and Wiress are more than just two fellow victors. They are best friends, a married couple, and the only neurodivergent people to have ever won the Hunger Games.





	Bond

In a world that hated people like them, it was no wonder that Beetee and Wiress became very close. Both shy, both bright, both autistic – both victors of the Hunger Games – it was no wonder they struck up a strong friendship.

Although, considering the world that they lived in, it was amazing that they managed to be together for so long.

\---

Growing up was hard. Beetee was intelligent, but no one liked him. He was bullied by his peers, and hated by most people he knew. He was weird, a retard, a problem child – all he heard growing up was hateful phrases used to dehumanise him, just because he was different. Not that they knew each other back then, but Beetee later discovered that Wiress had exactly the same childhood experiences.

But the autism diagnosis meant nothing (it didn’t get you help at school or more money for your family – and it certainly didn’t stop the bullying), except for the fact that no one would volunteer for you if you got Reaped. Beetee saw some of his bullies smile as his name was called, laughing as he smacked his hands against his legs in an attempt to stop himself panicking. When Wiress was Reaped, she had a meltdown and got tasered by a Peacekeeper. Back at home, he heard people casually saying that their district wouldn’t be getting a female victor this year.

In their respective Games, neither of them got any sponsors. Beetee couldn’t work out how to play to the crowd, and Wiress wouldn’t have done even if she knew how. They were the outcasts. To the point that everyone in Panem was amazed when the pair somehow won both their Games. Because how could retards who couldn’t hear loud music without freaking out possibly survive the hell of the Hunger Games?

\---

Even now, decades since they both entered the arena, they still weren’t accepted. Most of the other victors hated them (except for a few kind people such as Haymitch, Finnick and Mags), and they were a laughing stock to the Capitol.

In some particularly cruel circles, they were known as The Retards. The retards who somehow won their Games. The retards who stuck together because no one else would love them.

\---

Their friendship blossomed, and soon they were married. It was a quiet ceremony (the Capitol usually went mad when the victors got married, but, again, they didn’t care about Wiress and Beetee), but that was all they wanted.

Their small quiet wedding was perfect. A surprisingly sober Haymitch was his best man, and he managed to recite his speech without embarrassing anyone.

They got to dress how they wanted, act how they wanted, have the entire day the way they wanted – and for once Beetee was glad the Capitol didn’t like them, because it meant they got to have their special day away from the evil of the Games. It was almost like they had never been Reaped, and life was as good as it could possibly be in a hellhole like Panem. Emphasis on the ‘almost’.

\---

They knew each other perfectly. After being friends for so long, Beetee and Wiress knew how they both worked; it was almost as though they were knew how to read each other’s minds.

They stimmed together, letting one lay on the other when they needed to pressure stim and just rocking and flapping beside each other. They supported their stimming, trying to unlearn the years of abusive things they were told and finally being themselves.

Wiress sat beside Beetee and grounded him as he had shutdowns, and Beetee was there to keep her safe when Wiress had meltdowns. They helped each other manage their sensory needs, something no one ever cared about when they were young. But they cared now.

They cuddled in bed at night, and were there for each other when one inevitably woke up screaming, nightmares of their trauma stealing their sleep. And they would cradle the other close until their panic died down, wiping the tears from their face and holding them until they finally drifted back to sleep.

One night, Wiress awoke in a flurry of screaming cries and tangled sheets. Waking up to his wife screaming in terror from a hideous nightmare was an all too familiar sight, but it still made Beetee want to cry.

“It’s all right, it’s all right,” Beetee babbled, wrapping his arms around her as she broke down. His words seemed meaningless and forced, but he had to hope they helped his wife in some way.

Wiress sobbed hysterically, her hands flailing and she flapped and rocked and cried in Beetee’s tight embrace.

“But it’s not,” she mumbled, her voice hitching as she cried. “Not all right. Not all right.”

And Beetee knew she was one hundred percent correct. No one should have had to suffer what they both went through. It was hell. And it still is.

\---

Life seemed sort of bearable for a while. Beetee and Wiress were free from mentoring Tributes (the other victors in their District took the job; people obviously didn’t trust retards like them to do the job), so life was mostly quiet in their huge empty home in the Victor’s Village.

But then... the Quarter Quell came around. And everything was horrible and wrong and terrifying again.

As President Snow gave them the awful news on live television, they both panicked. Well, panicked was an understatement. They just... broke. Every small, tentative feeling of stability inside him shattered, and the same happened to Wiress.

“We were mean to be safe!” Beetee screamed at the screen, over and over again.

He slammed his hands against his legs, and Wiress curled in on herself, sobbing and hitting her hands against her head. They clung together, crying and melting down and breaking, barely able to process what was happening, but knowing Haymitch was telling the truth when he said, “We’re never free of the Games. Ever.”

\---

They swore to never hurt each other.

“I’d kill myself before I’d kill you,” Beetee said on the train to the Capitol. “We could go out together, spite them that way.”

“Berries,” Wiress said, tears in her eyes as she stroked Beetee’s cheek.

“Exactly,” he said. “Berries.”

\---

In the Capitol, no one seemed too enamoured to see Beetee and Wiress. Just like when they were young, the Capitol didn’t seem to like them. No one cared.

It was a relief to meet up with the other victors. Luckily (or unluckily, considering most of them were going to die), most of the other Reaped victors were their friends, and it was oddly calming to be with some of the few people who accepted them.

When they bumped into Mags, the old woman hugged Beetee and kissed Wiress’ cheek. She didn’t speak, but they were used to communicating without speech. And then they saw Haymitch, and Beetee remembered the wedding as he shook his friend’s hand.

“Hi, Haymitch,” he said.

“I’d say it’s good to see you,” Haymitch said, his voice slightly slurred, “but considering where we are, that’d probably be pointless.”

Beetee sighed, smiling weakly; he’d certainly missed Haymitch’s very dark sense of humour.

\---

In the training centre, they were approached by Katniss Everdeen. She didn’t understand their little joke about the force field, and looked rather confused as they both giggled. Later, Beetee wondered if they had offended her.

“You think we hurt her feelings?” he asked.

Wiress shrugged, but she looked a bit anxious. “Did we?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “But I hope we didn’t. We really need another ally.”

Wiress squeezed his hand. “Yes we do.”

This wasn’t a new problem; Beetee and Wiress had always struggled with social interaction. But he truly hoped Katniss wasn’t offended, because the girl was a lovely person – and they really did need more allies.

\---

Having to wear costumes played havoc with their sensory issues. Beetee and Wiress had very sensitive skin, and being groomed and preened by stylists and makeup artists was very uncomfortable. They coped with the discomfort much easier this time around (getting his makeup done as a teenager was a disaster, and he was certain Wiress had the same problem), but it was still unpleasant.

“Stop flapping your hands,” said their stylist, her tone snappy as she styled Wiress’ short hair.

“Make me,” Wiress said, and Beetee snorted with laughter and annoyed his makeup artist.

It was a silly, trivial moment, but any attempt to spite people for suppressing their stims was a miniature victory for Beetee.

\---

On stage, Wiress flapped violently, her hands a blur. Beetee knew she was calming herself down (being on stage was terrifying and overwhelming), but he also knew she was doing it to defy their stylist. She also freaked out Caesar Flickerman, something that Beetee found hysterical.

“What exactly are you doing there, Wiress?” Caesar asked, visibly uncomfortable.

“Flapping,” Wiress said. “Retard Girl needs to live up to her name.”

Caesar chose to ignore her use of that particularly cruel (but well known) nickname, and carried on asking her questions.

As they took their places at the back of the stage, Wiress grinned. And, as they held hands with all of the other victors and stood in defiance against the Capitol, Beetee felt a rare sense of belonging. In that moment, they all stood together. And Beetee started laughing as a panicked Caesar struggled to deal with the situation, before they cut the broadcast and the stage went dark.

\---

Wiress went nonverbal in the arena. She was never the most verbal person, but stress left her with only a few words. Beetee was the opposite; stress made him babble constantly. So as they struggled their way through the Quarter Quell, Wiress barely made a sound and Beetee wouldn’t – couldn’t – shut up.

\---

Wiress died. He couldn’t save her. Her throat was slit as she chanted the nursery rhyme that helped them all.

His wife, his best friend, his fellow survivor of the hell that was the Games, was dead. It wasn’t a painless death, swallowing berries to die together and spite the Capitol. It was having her throat cut open in a graphic display of violence. It was a pointless death.

It was exactly what the Capitol wanted.


End file.
